


Just lose for once

by youreagalaxy



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Confusion, Friends to Lovers, Growing Up AU, Growing Up Together, Highschool AU, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, No Smut, anyways enjoy, bit of a picker upper, but its kinda left to the imagination, childhood AU, clay/dream - Freeform, dream - Freeform, dreamnotfound, georgenotfound - Freeform, i need an editor holy shit, i need to sleep, im going to regret that, im so tired, kinda sweet, no beta we die like men, no sleep we fic, theres a bit of mild spicy but its so mild, they finally realize it their senior year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:01:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29730810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youreagalaxy/pseuds/youreagalaxy
Summary: Clay and George have known each other their whole life,And everything was always a competition.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 185





	Just lose for once

**Author's Note:**

> hi!  
> this is just a little thing i wrote. 
> 
> as always, while the people i use in this story do exist, these are fictional personas. if at any point dream and george are uncomfortable, i will remove the fic. please do not send/mention/etc the fic to any cc's involved
> 
> (also, i dont have smut here, but there is a little bit of spiceyness ig, but its when theyre of age. i try to mention it while being subtle; but just incase i thought i would mention it here to make it clear.)

Everything was always a competition.

From the minute the two had met- everything was a competition that needed to be won.

The moment a shaggy blonde boy bounded his way over to the quiet boy with glasses that were too big for his head; George knew this boy was probably going to be his friend. 

"Do you like tag?" He hurried out, eyes beaming, "I am the fastest one at tag," He pointed to his shoes, "My shoes make me super-fast? Wanna see?" Eyes lit up with excitement. 

George looked at his teacher, who scanned the playground filled to the brim with screaming 7–8-year old’s. The boy in front of him had the coolest sneakers, they were black and had colorful stripes on the side. He eyed them in jealousy, 

"Yeah," He said, his head bursting with awe as the boy darted across the playground, weaving through the monkey bars and speeding behind all of the other kids that laughed and played. George giggled, shuffling his feet while he returned to him.

He was panting, "See!" He screamed, he caught his breath and grabbed his new friend's arm, pulling him to a group of other kids, "What's your name?" 

He followed excitedly, "I'm George!" He laughed, the boy scrunched his nose at his accent,

"You sound weird, George." He said, making George frown, 

"I do not." He spat, 

"Do too,"

"Do not,"

"Do _too_ ,"

George glared at his new friend, or enemy,

"Tag!" George interrupted, pushing the boy hard on his shoulder, the other kids squealed with excitement, running away from the fastest one on the playground. 

And this is where their competition began. 

* * *

A few years later George would be finding himself at Clay's birthday party. He had a big house, with an even bigger pool in the backyard. Balloons were tied to the mailbox, cars littering the street.

He climbed out of his Mom's minivan, the hot sun hitting his pale, sun screened skin. He pushed his glasses up his face, tugging on his swimming trunks that had ducks on them. He was excited, but also nervous to go swimming. 

He followed his Mom inside, stopping to avoid two boys that ran past him in the doorway in a mad dash. His mom greeted Clay's mom, smiling and hugging her while she waved at George. He waved back, she was nice, and she made really good mac and cheese. George liked her a lot. 

"Clay! George is here!" She yelled over her shoulder. In no time, he heard Clay's bare feet slapping against the kitchen floor. His hair was dripping, swimming trunks soaked with pool water. 

His mom gasped, "You were supposed to dry off before you came inside! What did I tell you?" She scolded through her teeth. Clay shrugged,

"Sorry," His eyes widened, groaning as she shooed him outside. George followed him, waving to his own Mom. 

"George! I did a flip off of the diving board!" He announced, his crooked smile shining as he led George to the pool. It was filled with other primary students, mainly the ones in his class. George recognized a few, his stomach flipping with nervousness at the crowd. 

The sun was bright, it smelled like chlorine and popsicles, and George covered his eyes with his hand, towel hanging over his arm. Other kids splashed and played in the pool, heaving toys and spraying one another with water guns.

"Come on! I want to see you do one!" Clay encouraged, pulling hard on George's hand while he shook his sopping wet mop of hair out of his eyes, flinging some on George. 

"But I've never jumped off of the diving board," He said, his flip flops stopping on the hot rocks. 

Clay rolled his eyes, licking some extra ice-cream out of the corners of his mouth, "Oh come on don't be a scaredy-cat." 

George scowled, "I'm not,"

Clay threatened to throw back an, _'Are too'_ , but he knew George got scared of the diving board. They were in their fifth year of school, and it was something George couldn't seem to get over. 

"Watch me, you can do it if I can do it," He reassured, smiling growing wide as he ran over to the diving board, earning a scolding from his mom that he grimaced at. He made sure George was looking as he jumped off, pulling his feet to his chest and landing in the water with a loud splash. 

George put his towel on a table, watching his best friend crawl out of the pool and leave a trail of water as he ran back to George. 

"You gonna do it?" He asked, rubbing the water from his eyes with the back of his hand. His breath was hard as he swam and ran around with energy.

George slipped off his flip flops, determined and slipping his glasses off with them, "I bet I can make a bigger splash than you." He said, making the blonde boy giggle in excitement. He loved when George and he would compete, because George always lost.

Clay waited in the pool, yelling at his friend while he stood on the diving board, watching over the shiny blue water beneath him grow fuzzy as he wasn't wearing his glasses. He could faintly make out the wet mop of the birthday boy's hair and saw him yelling and motioning for George to jump. 

He gulped, curling his toes while his eyes were glued to the bottom of the pool. 

After a couple of more seconds, he clenched his fist, the other one pinching his nose as he jumped, closing his eyes tight. The water hit his warm skin in no time, making him want to shriek. It was cold at first, and as soon as the confidence came it left, and he was clawing his way back up to the surface. 

* * *

He broke the surface of the water, gasping for air as he reached for his friend who cackled in his ears. 

"George! Give up or you're going to drown!" Clay yelled behind him, putting his hands on George's shoulders one more time as he threatened to pull him under once more, 

"Fuck you!" George yelled, letting himself sink back under and try at grab at his blonde friend's legs. They fought, clawing and kicking, trying to get a hold on any body part they could to win their little game. George was determined to win, make Clay give up first. But the blonde was just as determined to do the same.

They both eventually came up for air, George's short dark brown hair clung to his forehead, while Clay's long wavy hair flopped into his eyes. He smiled, his braces shining in the dark. 

They were about to go back at it before they heard a loud cough from outside of the pool. Clay looked up and behind George, eyes widening at the noise. George turned around as he continued to tread in the chilled water, the sky dark above him.

It was Clay's idea to night swim, and yeah, it was a school night, and yeah, his Mom told him he couldn't swim at night on a school night; and also, because he kept forgetting to turn the pool lights off.

But of course, he talked George into it, saying he could beat George at holding his breath the longest. George of course argued he could hold his breath longer, knowing that when Clay got competitive, he stayed calm. He made everything a competition. 

And then as he went under the water, George felt his calloused hands on his shoulders trap him under. He fought and kicked to push himself back up, panic stealing his breath. 

"What did I tell you two about swimming at night in _my_ pool?" She scolded, her foot tapping on the ground. They were silent, ashamed.

"Mom..." Clay whined, "It's the last day of summer..." He groaned. She only further pushed her point that they would be starting their sophomore year and needed to be in bed. 

George looked away from her eyes, watching as Dream's younger sister came out of the sliding glass door into the backyard. She stuck her tongue out at her older brother as their Mom told them they weren't allowed to swim for the rest of the month.

Clay saw her and swam to the edge, pushing himself up and out to chase her. She squealed, and it took no time for him to catch up grabbing her and slinging her over his wet shoulder. Their Mom yelled at them to quit, telling Clay to put her down as George pushed himself up and out of the pool, sitting on the edge. 

"She was being annoying!" He retorted,

"She's way younger than you, Clay!" She argued. Clay rolled his eyes, stopping midway to apologize profusely. It was a bad habit of his. 

George giggled as his younger sister continued to make faces as she stood behind their Mom. 

She made them clean up, telling George it was nice to have him but to politely go home now. He laughed; she was like a second Mom. She and Clay looked a lot alike, their eyes and hair almost the exact same color.

Not that George would know the difference if he ended up looking like his Dad. He had never seen his friend's Dad, never talked about him either. 

He gathered up his stuff, apologizing once more as Clay walked him out of the front door. He always did, breaking off at the mailbox as George went on his way home. 

"You lost by the way!" George yelled over his shoulder, clutching his bag full of clothes and video game related things. 

Clay turned around, halting as he walked into his front door, "In your wildest dreams, idiot!" 

George didn't look back, only yelped when he felt his friend tackle him from behind, giving him a warm hug, because Clay had the best hugs, before finally waving him bye.

George smiled, pulling his glasses up on his nose. Looking up to watch the moths that swarmed the dim street lights on his way home.

* * *

George looked down, snapping out of his trance. The field light still blinding his vision, only listening as the crowd erupted into a wave of screams. He was watching close, leaning on the wire fence. 

The bleachers were full of students, cheerleaders beaming on the edge of the field as they watched the tall, blonde, handsome quarterback pass the goal line, ending their senior year’s season with a final touchdown. 

George laughed in excitement, fingers lacing and wrapping around the fence in front of him. Clay was tackled by his teammates as the field was bursting at the seams with noise. The band blaring, the crowd screaming, the lights flashing. 

He had come to every game of his friends, standing to the side with a few other students, avoiding the bleachers completely. He wasn't shy, he just preferred to watch from a different angle. He wasn't there for the game; he was there for Clay. 

Clay always knew where to find him, and that was another reason that George stood to the side of the field. At the end of every game was always wrapped up in a sweaty hug, laughing as Clay spouted off about the game, excited, his straight white teeth shining like his skin from sweat. 

George relished the hugs, laughing as his friend’s chest heaved, burying his face into his shoulder, heart warm as Clay would put his hand into his friend's hair. He felt like he could feel his heart beating against his; felt his excitement even though George knew nothing about the sport.

That's why George came. 

He walked to the edge of the fence, stepping out into the grass inside of the stadium. He leaned against it, giggling as his teammates lifted the blonde up, his bright smile shining, laughing and screaming and shaking with excitement. He was on top of the world, his training paid off. 

George's heart warmed. A curse if you asked him, every game he attended he noticed it did this. He began to notice it a lot more recently, how his heart beamed as he hung out with his friend.

He would never tell him, never admit it. George wouldn't let Clay win him over. He always won.

After more congratulations, kisses on the cheek from cheerleaders, pats on the back from coaches; Clay made his way over, walking at first but began to run as he smiled at George.

George picked himself off of the fence, laughing as Clay lifted him up, wrapping his arms around him while the brunette laughed in exhilaration. He let him down, hugging tight before pulling back, holding him shoulder's length away. 

His hair was sweaty and kind of flat from his helmet, smile loud and heart beating like the drums of the band. He began to gush about the game, George smiling and doing his best to understand.

"-I wasn't even quarterback, George! He fucked up his foot, so I had to fill in! I mean look at me, I am _not_ a quarterback." He wheezed, emphasizing his tall frame. Compared to the other team's quarterback, who had a broad build, muscular and a normal height. 

"It's just because of my arm, I mean, I can throw, but you know? I thought we were screwed!" He yelled, trailing off and stumbling over his words. 

George laughed, "No, you did so good," He started, noting his friend's smile grow wider. He leaned into his touch, "I mean, you weaved through the other players like nothing!" 

Clay ran a hand through his hair, "I know! Their defense kind of sucked, but..." He trailed off, "Do I look crazy right now?" 

His hair was a mess, eyes wild and face flushed from the intense running, George couldn't help but grin, recognizing this wild look he had grown to esteem his whole life.

"Just a little," He said,

Clay grinned, taking his hands off of his friend’s shoulders. He huffed, snickering to himself again before he felt George’s eyes on him.

“What?” He asked, voice lowered while George’s eyes stared directly into his own.

George’s thoughts were cloudy, admiration floating in his brain at the boy before him. He cursed the butterflies in his chest, Clay could choose to go to the locker rooms, get any girl he wanted, celebrate and relish in his victory. But he always came back to George.

He decided to take a chance. Wanting to win.

He leaned into Clay, kissing his cheek lightly, grinning to himself as he froze in his tracks.

George refused to smile, watching his expression falter into complete puzzlement. He decided not to address it.

“I’ll see you tonight, I can still come over right?”

It was their tradition, after every game George would come over so they could play video games to celebrate, staying up late, falling asleep on the floor.

They didn’t really go to the after parties, and if they did it was a short amount of time. The drinking, loud music, smoking, and dancing only entertained them for a while before they decided they were happier in each other’s company in their own room.

George looked in his eyes, watching as they hazed over. He bit his bottom lip, trying not to laugh at the dumbfounded look on his friend’s face.

Clay blinked at the brunette, the noise deafening around him, time froze for a moment while he watched his friend begin to walk off, he lifted a hand to his cheek,

“Yeah, see you…” He trailed off, smiling while George’s shorter frame walked off proudly, his hands shoved into his hoodie pockets.

Clay bit the inside of his lip, turning back to his team, rushing to the locker room to get his clothes back on, eager to go home.

He smiled; George won this time.

-

They sat side-by-side on the floor, their backs against the bed. Shoulders pressed together, fingers moving quickly as they gripped the plastic controllers in their hands.

The room was dark, only illuminated by the tv screen in front of them. They were competitive as always, giggling and throwing insults at one another as the game progressed.

Clay was losing the majority of the games, his thoughts unfocused by the gesture from his friend earlier. This was noticeable, as he seemed to get more distracted with every new game.

“What’s up with you?” George laughed, sitting up to look Clay in his face. His eyes found George’s looking at the shadows that casted onto his face from the light of the death screen in front of them.

If he was being honest he didn't know. He had known George what felt like all 19 years of his life. He walked with him to school everyday, ate lunch with him, even spent some major holidays together. They were best friends, having laughed, joked, fought in every way. 

Clay shrugged, “I…” He trailed off.

George was so close, and for some reason Clay needed him to be closer. The simple kiss on the cheek sparked something in him, flipped a switch. It made Clay's finger ache. 

George narrowed his eyes, “What?”

He pushed all reason out of his mind. He pushed himself up, crashing his lips into George’s- his best friend. George’s eyes flew open in shock, his nose pressed up against the blonde’s, his glasses falling down the bridge.

But it had ended before it began.

He pulled back, George’s eyes were wide, completely taken aback. Clay caught his breath, noticing his arms shake as they held him up to George. His head felt empty, but full of thoughts at the same time.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, not truly meaning it.

He loved the feeling, even if it was rushed and awkward and George hadn’t really kissed back. He wanted to hold him and pull him closer and do it again.

George licked his lips, looking forward and down at the floor. Clay held his breath while George sat in a daze, wondering if he had ruined everything.

Clay ran a hand through his hair, “I’m so sorry,” He whispered quietly, meaning it this time.

His hands shook with nervousness, a feeling so strong. He got nervous playing football, he got nervous giving speeches in class. But this was much more intense, made his nerves freeze and he felt like his heart stopped. He closed his eyes, expecting to hear the door to his bedroom at open any moment.

“Do it again,” George whispered.

Clay’s eyes flew open, his body feeling like gelatin. He could sink into the floor,

“What?”

George lifted himself up, now on his knees and crawling to Clay. He got nose-to-nose with him, his brown eyes pouring themselves into his own green ones.

“I said,” He started, letting his lips ghost over the blonde’s, “Do. It. Again.”

Clay’s head was spinning, his eyelids were falling, he was melting under George’s words, feeling lost and amazed, he was challenging him.

But Clay liked to win.

“You started it.” He whispered, opening his eyes to see George’s meet his. They flicked down to his lips, one of George’s hands resting on Clay’s shoulder; his nimble fingers curling.

“Then you finish it,” He said back, moving and letting himself straddle Clay’s long legs, resting himself on his lap, never leaving the close space that they were in.

His lips were so close, so tempting, so alluring. Clay’s body was a conjectured mess of fireworks and butterflies and he felt like he could vomit.

George’s body was centimeters away, their breaths mingled like best friends in a dark room in the middle of the night. Clay’s eyes opened up, looking up into the deep brown, his breath escaped his lips.

“You make everything a competition, Clay,” George whispered, cupping the sides of his friends face in his hands, “Just lose for once,”

...

“And kiss me.”

Clay lost it.

He lost, connecting their lips, moving against George’s body, feeling every part of George as his lips fell in love with George’s, his hands resting on George’s hips, his sides, in his hair, on the back of his neck.

George was breathless, but refused to pull away, only pulled and pushed himself impossibly closer to his friend, ignoring the sound of the video game loop in the background, ignoring the cold air around them,

And he kissed Clay. And he smiled, because George won again.

Their breaths were stolen, lips moving together in a rush of mixed feelings. Kissing your life-long best friend was foreign, but all too familiar as the world faded away around them, engrossed completely in one another while the room disappeared.

And George continued to win as Clay touched him first, as Clay spoke to him, as Clay felt him. George stared into his blown-out eyes as Clay lost, giving in completely to George.

And Clay figured he would keep losing to George’s temptation if he kept whispering his name like he was.

They stopped themselves; Clay breathless on top of his friend, whose back was flat on the carpet. Their faces were red, flushed, eyes lidded and full of lust.

They stared for a minute, swallowing each other up, Clay’s hand was frozen still in his friend’s pants; making George bite his lip.

He sat up on his elbows, swollen lips grazing the blonde boy’s. They breathed heavy into each other’s open mouths, George threw his head back as Clay touched him, brought him to the edge.

They pulled apart, sitting on the floor, looking forward, back in the position they started in.

Silence filled the room.

George picked up a controller, exiting out of the game and shutting down the console.

The candle dimly lit the room in a soft yellow.

George slowly turned to him, and Clay offered a cute smile.

And they kissed some more.

* * *

George pulled away, tears threatening to flow down his face as Clay gave him another smile before waving him off. It was just a year right? A year away from your best friend. 

He wouldn't cry, he wanted Clay to cry first. 

_: ur going to cry first_

He texted to his boyfriend, grinning as the bubbles immediately showed up.

_clay <3<3<3: is that a challenge_

He rolled his eyes

_: always_

_clay <3<3<3: well in that case no, i always win._

George grinned, sniffling while he felt the pull grow stronger, felt himself miss him more and more, already counting the minutes until he got to be with him again. 

* * *

2 Minutes left. 

Two minutes until he saw his boyfriend, until he got to hold him, hug him, kiss him until he forgot what it was like to not do those things. 

He whipped his head around, pacing through the airport as he searched.

He looked down at his phone, noticing he only had a minute until Clay said he would be here. He looked up, maybe he was in the wrong place. He bit his bottom lip.

"George!" 

He turned around, brown eyes meeting green. He adjusted his glasses on his face, dropping his luggage as he watched a smile grow onto his face. 

And George melted, absolutely melted as he saw that same boy on the playground so many years ago.

He saw his freckles, his shaggy blonde hair, his excited smile.

And he ran up to him, hugging him like nobody else in the world existed. 


End file.
